Teammates, Friends, Lovers
by IShipFabrevans
Summary: Quinntana one-shots collection, mostly AU. Genre & Rating will change for each individual chapter but rated T to be safe.
1. The Promise

**AN's**:_ Hello there. Unfortunately for me, if this story sucks I can't use the beginners excuse. I have written many Fabrevans stories, but when I left the Glee fandom after the end of S3, I decided to delete everything. However, Quinntana has always been my crackship since s2, so while writing Sam and Quinn, I amused myself and I wrote the ocasional story of them, but never published so I decided to share it with you now, simply because we need more Quinntana fics._

_I hope you enjoy this little story, and please do tell me what you think. Constructive Criticism is most welcome._

* * *

**The Promise**

Running down the stairs as quickly as she could the young girl tried not to trip over her own two feet. Reaching the living room her eyes went wide. There by the fireplace was the most beautiful Christmas tree she had ever seen. Dozens of nicely wrapped packages were lying around the tree and the stockings on the fireplace were filled with small presents as well.

Her eyes were glowing with happiness as she looked over the room, admiring the way the fire enlightened the gold and blue ornaments on the tree.

When she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder she turned dark brown eyes up to stare into a pair of eyes just like her own. The man and the woman were smiling down at her lovingly, one hand holding the others gently in it's grasp.

"Mom, dad." She whispered almost like it was forbidden to say those words out loud. Slowly a small smile crept onto the young girl face and she felt a strange feeling of warmth and love flow through her. She hadn't felt like this for so long…

"Hey Lopez! Wake up!"

Santana's eyes snapped open and she had to look around the room before she knew again where she was. Sighing she fell back onto her pillows. Only a dream... again. Her eyes searched the room for any signs that this was the dream and her family would be waiting for her to wake up in a better world.

When a fluffy white pillow hit her square in the face all her hopes were gone. Groaning she took the pillow in her hands and looked at it. The cloth was worn and old, being sewed together at several places. She stared at it for several seconds before a voice ripped her from her trancelike state.

"You finally awake, Santana?"

"Yes, no thanks to you, Kitty." She grumbled while throwing back the pillow to it's owner; a blonde haired girl with sparkling blue eyes.

"Get up now, or we'll get problems." She looked at the dark haired girl with a look of disgust "wouldn't be the first time we get into trouble because of you."

Turning her eyes at the other girl Santana jumped up from the bed and lunged forward punching the girl in the face, who landed on the floor with a loud thud moments later. Touching her bleeding lip the girl looked up at Santana angrily.

"If it weren't Christmas today, you'd be in a lot of trouble, Lopez."

Santana shook her head and glared back at the other girl. "Without your so called friends you are nothing. All they can do is hurt others… some friends they are."

"At least I have friends." Kitty snarled before leaving the room angrily.

Shutting her eyes tightly Santana bit down the sobs she knew would escape if she didn't control herself. Opening her eyes again she looked out of the dirty window. Snow was covering the trees and the world seemed to be in a deep slumber. How she wished she could just do that too, while a lonely tear rolled down her cheek.

She slowly dragged herself down the shabby wooden stairs of the Orphanage, dreading the moment she would enter the great hall, where the Christmas tree was placed every year. She knew what sight would greet her: all the children running around happily unwrapping self-made gifts from their friends; and her? she would just sit there looking round for her gift, and like the years before she wouldn't receive one, well except for the grey pullover they all got every year from the Orphanage. Kitty had been right, she had no friends, but she honestly didn't know why. The other children just seemed to avoid her, no one daring to come too close to her.

They always whispered to each other when she entered a room. Maybe they didn't like her because of this sad look she always wore on her face -at least that's what Mrs. Harris, the housekeeper had once told her. She really tried to look cheerful, but whenever someone wanted to befriend her, Kitty and her gang destroyed everything by telling the newcomer absurd stories about Santana. The sad thing was they believed them. So over the three years she had been in the Orphanage, Santana hadn't succeeded in making a single friend. Slowly she started to think that it was really her fault.

Another thing that hurt even more than Kitty's teasing was that, although a lot of potential parents had been there, had seemed interested in her but in the end they didn't take her home. And every day Santana started to doubt herself more and more, believing that she would never find true friends or a home...

While the other children were happily looking at each other's presents Santana frowned and strode back up to her room. Well, you couldn't exactly call it her room, since she had to share it with Kitty and her gang of three other girls. Although it was sometimes hell she had gotten used to their constant bickering.

Grabbing her clothes Santana got dressed as quickly as she could. Pushing the new grey pullover over her head hurriedly, she glanced around cautiously and after taking a look at the corridor and making sure nobody was there either, she grabbed her worn gloves and climbed out of the window into the nearby tree and down to the earth. Once on solid ground again she looked around the corner carefully, hoping no one was outside. Thanking the heavens that the way was clear she made a mad dash for the Orphanage door.

Once there she sneaked through the half opened metal door and into freedom… at least for the next few hours. She had tried more than once to just run away but they had always caught her and had brought her back. The headmaster of the Orphanage Mrs. Carter was a very friendly woman, which was her luck or she would have been punished worse than just having to wash the dishes for three weeks.

Since then she had been forbidden to leave the Orphanage grounds and the doors were usually guarded by Mr. Harris, the housekeeper's husband; but obviously nobody expected her to flee on Christmas or Mr. Harris preferred sitting in his warm living room instead of spending the day outside in the cold. She had gotten used to not getting outside this prison, as she liked to refer to it. In fact she found a secluded area of the gardens with an old barn were she would spend her afternoons reading or just thinking.

Looking down the empty street she ran towards her destination; the park. She loved being there, looking at the people, envying the children who so carelessly went along the small paths holding their parent's hands. But most of all she loved the lake in the middle of the park. It was surrounded by tall trees and in the winter it froze over and some people went ice skating. How she would have loved to go skating too, but she didn't have any ice-skates nor the money to burrow a pair.

Once she reached her destination, Santana stopped at the entrance to take a deep breath. She had run so fast she barely could breathe taking deep gulps of air she strolled into the snow covered park. Not many people were there but that didn't surprise her, it was Christmas after all. All the children would be now unwrapping their Christmas presents she was sure.

Slowly she walked towards the lake which was empty and calm at the moment and sat down on a bench so she could overview the scenery. Never had the lake seemed so serene to her like it did that Christmas morning.

Totally engrossed in the feeling of calm and peace she was startled when she suddenly felt something tug at her shoe. Looking down her eyes widened as she saw a small golden retriever puppy sitting by her right shoe, happily munching on her shoelaces.

Raising one eyebrow Santana inspected the animal more closely and the puppy seemed to do the same with her, turning small button like brown orbs towards her. A small smile crept onto the girls face as the puppy started to jump up and down, inviting the child to play with him.

Santana brought a shaky hand to the puppy's head gently stroking it's ears. The little dog closed it's eyes and leaned in closer, obviously enjoying the attention. After a few moments though it turned away and jumped up and down in the snow again and Santana finally gave in and sat down on the ground in front of the puppy.

"I really ask myself where you came from, little one."

Her answer was a high bark from the baby dog. Five minutes later you could find the two chasing around the area, the young girl trying to catch the dog and both slipping on the snow from time to time. In the end they both landed next to each other both covered with snow, making a funny picture for everyone who went by. Santana gently ruffled the puppy fur and hugged the little animal close to her. Never had she had such a good time!

"Archie! Archie, where are you?!"

Santana looked up startled by the calling voice. There at the railing of the lake stood a girl, she was younger tan her, maybe 2 years she guessed, with tears streaming down her red cheeks, a look of total distress on her face, but what fascinated Santana was the girl's eyes… at first glance she thought they were brown, but looking more carefully she noticed that the girl's eyes were green, but not the green some children of the Orphanage had, these were a color she in her short life never had seen before.

Santana didn't know why but somehow it bothered her to see the girl cry, as if she wasn't supposed to ever be sad. When the girl suddenly looked towards her Santana blushed and looked down; the next thing she heard was a loud squeal and soft foot steps in the snow running in her direction.

Before Santana could do anything the little puppy freed himself of the girl's embrace and ran towards the younger girl. Santana looked up startled and watched in horror as the girl picked up the puppy and hugged it tightly... all of a sudden the girl didn't seems so cute anymore to Santana.

"Oh, Archie! I've found you! Don't ever run away from me again, okay?" she hugged the small dog close to her before planting a small kiss on it's nose.

Disappointed Santana got to her feet and trudged towards the entrance doors, when all of a sudden a small hand grabbed her. She whirled around only to be greeted by those eyes again, still brimmed with tears. The girl looked up at her sweetly, a small smile playing on her lips.

"Archie wanted to run after you, so I guess you found him."

Santana just nodded at the girl dumbly. A soft giggle escaped the blonde's lips as she held up the puppy which playfully licked Santana's face.

"He wants too say thank you… and me too." The girl almost whispered, happy tears running down her face, the smile never leaving her lips.

Santana couldn't help but smile back.

"Can't you stay a little longer, or do your parents wait for you?" Santana gulped upon hearing that question, so innocently asked by a small golden angel.

"I don't have any parents." Santana stated coldly.

She could hear the girl inhaling sharply and Santana expected her to leave, when she felt a soft hand on her own and suddenly sparkling green eyes looked up into her own darker ones.

"Well, then that means you can still play with us a little. I'm Quinn." She exclaimed cheerfully extending her hand.

Santana took it flabbergasted and shook it gently."And you are?" Quinn tilted her head to the side waiting for her answer expectantly.

"Ahm... I'm San-Santana." She stuttered, still holding Quinn's hand tightly in hers.

"Well then... come on! Let's go to the swings!" and with that she took off bouncing towards the swings. Santana stood rooted to the spot watching this little bundle of energy with wondering eyes. Never in her life had she seen someone like her. When Quinn turned around and saw Santana still where she had left her she pouted and waved wanting her to follow her. Santana didn't know why but that cute little pout on her face made strange things to her and she simply couldn't resist and ran towards Quinn.

"So…where do you live Santana?" Quinn asked her head tilted to the left so she could better look at her

"The Orphanage." was her short reply.

Quinn looked at her puzzled. "What's an Orphan...?"

"An Orphanage?"

She nodded, her beautiful eyes fixed upon Santana's face with interest.

"Well... it's a place where children without parents or any other relatives live." Santana tried to explain.

Quinn studied her gloved hands for a moment before answering, "That's sad."

"Yes it is." Santana sighed, hanging her head.

"Tell me about your friends there." Quinn tried to change the subject but her eyes went wide when she saw Santana hang her head even more, her chin now firmly pressed against her chest as she answered her.

"I don't have any..."

Not able to believe that this nice girl didn't have any friends the words "Why not?" burst out of her mouth before she could stop them. Biting her lip a moment later she chided herself for being so curious, hadn't her father only told her the day before that she shouldn't ask such questions? But since she couldn't take them back now she looked up at Santana expectantly, who was now gazing out at the frozen lake, her eyebrows knit together in thought how to answer her.

Santana finally sighed loudly and let her gaze meet hers before speaking, "Because I'm not a very likeable person…always reading, secluding myself from the others."

"I like you." The words shot out of her mouth so quickly without thought that Quinn blinked in surprise herself. She had known this girl for merely a few minutes and yet she knew that those words were true... she liked her and she felt that what she needed most now was a friend, and that she would gladly offer herself.

Santana's eyes turned to look at her and that bright smile that lit up Quinn's face made her grin as well; "I like you too Quinn."

"Quinn! There you are!" a concerned male voice shouted in their direction.

The little blonde turned around startled to see her father walking towards her. Jumping down to the ground she straightened up and ran towards her father who picked her up and whirled her around until she started to shake from her endless giggling. Santana had to look away, not able to bear such a happy sight... she just didn't feel like seeing what she would never have.

After she had been set on the floor again Quinn took her father's arm and pointed towards Santana who sat there on the swing looking miserably. Mr. Fabray looked at the girl and then back at his daughter who tugged impatiently on his hand. She leaned towards him and he kneeled down as she whispered something into his ear. His eyes widened before a small smile crept onto his face as he looked back down at his little girl and nodded.

Smiling brilliantly Quinn ran back to Santana, surprising the poor girl by tackling her and giving her a big bear hug.

Quinn picked up the puppy who had been happily munching on one of Santana's discarded gloves and put it gently into the girls arms. Santana looked back at her with wide, puzzled eyes as she didn't understand what she wanted her to do.

"You can have Archie..." she started "if you promise you'll take good care of him!."

Santana's mouth hung wide open as she couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"What?...Why?..." she stuttered.

"Because you have no one to love you... to be with you... someone you can talk to." Quinn told her softly.

"but I can't... I mean he's yours. You love him, don't you?"

Quinn nodded silently."Yes, I love him… but I know he likes you, and you like him. He'll always be a good friend to you. I don't want you to be lonely, Santana."

"Quinn..." she managed to choke out as tears were rapidly running down her face. Never had someone done something so sweet for her.

The little blonde girl looked back at her father who nodded signalling her it was time to go. "I have to go now."

Santana hugged the little puppy closer to her and nodded. "Will I see you again?" she asked quietly.

"Sure you will! I'm always in the park on Mondays, Wednesdays and the weekends! My mom takes me." She beamed.

Santana grinned back at her. "I'll try to be there."

"Good!" Quinn turned around to leave when she once more looked at her with those cheerful orbs.

"Say, Santana, can you ice skate?"

"No... you?"

Quinn shook her head " No, but we could learn it together."

"I'd like that."

Quinn flashed her one last dazzling smile before she ran towards her father and they took off. Santana stood there for a long time until they were out of sight; then she looked down at her new friend and smiled. "So, Archie, let's go home."

For once in her life she didn't return to the Orphanage with a heavy heart but a feeling of light-headedness and happiness. She silently crept into the gardens and carefully made her way into the secluded area. There she placed the puppy in the barn and told him to stay quiet and that she would be back after dinner to stay with him for the little animal seemed to be quite content with this and curled up on a fluffy pillow, falling asleep immediately. Santana smiled down at her new found friend.

"If I had any friend to tell this, they surely wouldn't believe me." She whispered to the winds while she made her way back to the house quickly.

The next day she stood at the railing of the lake expectantly, waiting for this little sunshine named Quinn to arrive. She said she was always there on weekends and it was Sunday... she had to come!... but she didn't.

Sad and very disappointed Santana picked up her little friend and marched back towards the Orphanage. She went to the park every Monday, Wednesday and on the weekends, but Quinn was never there... except for that one time.

Archie was running around her feet with a small wooden ball in his mouth and Santana tried to keep her balance when she saw a small golden angel sitting on a bench by the lake. Santana slowly walked closer and as she was about to touch her shoulder she heard a soft sob escape her lips.

"Why are you crying Quinn?"

Quinn's head snapped up and she looked at Santana with wide opened eyes, before a small smile started to form on her pink lips.

"I'm very sad, Santana.." she almost whispered "my daddy told me we will move away from here."

Santana gulped nervously, the only friend she had ever had... although she didn't know her that well- would soon move away… and that would leave her alone again.

Santana looked down at Archie who looked back up at her expectantly waiting for Santana to play with him. What would happen to Archie? Would she want him back? As if she could read her mind Quinn said "You have to take good care of Archie, for me, promise?"

"Promise." Santana answered with tear filled eyes.

Quinn slowly got up from the bench and hugged the older girl tightly. "I hope I'll see you again one day."

"I hope so too. You know we planned to go ice skating together."

Smiling a sad smile Quinn nodded before running off without another word.

"Quinn! Wait!" Quinn stopped immediately turning her head to look at Santana."Where are you going?"

"New York!" those were the last words Santana heard from her little golden angel who had brought so much light into her miserable life.

* * *

How she had managed to hide Archie from the headmaster and the other children for 8 years was a riddle to the now quite beautiful teenager as she cast one last look at the old shabby building which had been her home for the last ten years.

Now, at the age of 18 Santana was free to leave and live her own life. That they didn't have to tell her twice! Some of the other kids had practically begged her to stay, very much to the dismay of Kitty who had glared at her darkly from her place in the corner of the great hall.

"Come on Archie, let's go find a new home for us." And with that she left everything she had known behind to finally start a life of her own. She had been informed that she had inherited some money from her parents she now had access to, and the first thing she did was buying a train ticket headed for New York.

"Now would you look at this, boy?" She ruffled Archie's head affectionately while kneeling beside him and looking up at the big buildings. "This city's amazing!. Let's go to our new apartment." The dog grabbed it's old and worn teddy bear and ran by Santana's side as they headed for their apartment building at the end of the street.

Furnishing the apartment had been more exhausting than she had anticipated and after a week of carrying everything she needed, Santana flopped down on her large dark black couch and stared out of the balcony doors admiring the wonderful sunset.

"Archie... this is life.." And as if to agree Archie barked cheerfully jumping onto Santana's lap who laughed cheerfully.

The next two years Santana had been tried to find a girl named Quinn but had to find out that first, there were too many girls named Quinn running around New York, second, she didn't know her last name and third, that she didn't even know where to start. So she decided she would let fate play it's role... it had brought them together for the first time as well; maybe it would work again. But as the years passed by Santana started to give up hope to see this angel again.

Life had been good to Santana for the first time in her life and after finishing school she now carried a University scholarship in her pocket. She even had made some friends and as in her last years at the Orphanage, boys and girls where trying to get her attention. Her now best friend Brittany often teased her about that fact and actually tried to set her up with a girl every few months. Santana always smiled and nodded when her friend bragged on about one girl or another trying to raise her interest, telling her all about them… from their hair color up to their pets favorite meals, which struck Santana as rather strange, and she really didn't dare ask how Brittany had found out that bit of information.

She trusted the good natured, blonde-haired girl and for the first time could imagine what it would have been like having a sister, yet she had never told her about that sweet little girl she had met as a child.

Over the years Santana started idealizing her, making her the perfect woman in her mind, sweet, caring, loving, and of course, totally in love with her. She knew it was silly to think of her like that and that she hadn't felt anything like love for her as children, yet now when Santana thought about Quinn, she was her perfect angel, the one she wanted to be with.

Santana tried to control those thoughts by telling herself that Quinn grew up as well and that she had no idea what she was really like now. For all she knew Quinn could have grown up to be a heartless, arrogant bitch, but then she remembered those eyes staring so intently into hers, once filled with laughter and once with endless sadness, but always with tenderness and pure love for everything that was alive.

Another two years went by and Santana hadn't once dated anybody seriously, she had tried, but every kiss and every played act of tenderness was so wrong to her, that she soon distanced herself again from the woman she dated. She often saw the worried looks Brittany gave her, saw how much her best friend cared about her and that fact alone kept her hoping that life was good and that there was a chance for her to make her dream of love and family come true one day.

Archie barked happily as they both were on their daily jog, through the park, still carrying around a very old and worn teddy bear Santana had given him to play with when he had still been a puppy. Christmas was nearing again and the first snow had fallen only two days before.

As the two made their way through the snow covered paths of a large park, Santana watched the many children rolling in the snow, making snowball fights or building huge snowmen. The pair stopped at the railing of the large lake in the center of the park, now frozen over. Leaning against the cold metal she watched the many ice dancers, fascinated by their grace and the fluid motion with which they gilded over the ice. Her gaze swept over the cold surface taking in the many happy people who spent some time on the ice as well- parents teaching their children how to skate, young couples holding hands while lost in their own little worlds and children sitting on the cold floor crying because they had tripped and fallen once again.

Smiling gently Santana bent down and stroked Archie soft, warm fur making the dog lick her hand in response. She had never learned how to skate and she knew it was because of the promise she had given the little girl so many years ago. Sighing she turned around and signalled Archie to follow her back home.

Sitting at her desk, a chemistry book opened in front of her, Santana stared out at the slowly darkening sky. The streetlight were already going on and several tress where lit with small lamps, giving them a feel of Christmas. And then her gaze fell on the park she had been only a few hours ago, and she could make out the lights surrounding the lake. For a few moments she just stared unblinkingly out of the window before shutting the book, taking her keys and Archie and heading for the park.

Standing in front of the lake, ice skates in her right hand she wondered if she had gone insane. The ice looked slippery and she wondered if coming here had been such a good idea after all. She looked down at Archie who sat by her feet looking up at her with his head slightly bent to the left, sceptically watching the glittery surface of the frozen lake.

Taking one encouraging breath she sat down on the bench behind him and started to put on the skates, determined to face the ice for the very first time in her life.

Maybe this was the key to finding her. She knew it was silly but deep in her heart she really hoped that if she learned how to skate now, Quinn would pop up beside her like a miracle and they would both keep their promise. It was crazy, she knew, but after all that she had tried to find her, it was also her last hope.

Getting up she needed a few moments to balance herself on the skates before trying to make a step towards the lake. Archie watched from the shore as her master made the first step onto the ice, slipped and landed on her behind a moment later. Santana let out a small string of curses before struggling to get to her feet again- this was definitely harder than she had every thought it would be… it always looked so easy when watching the ice dancers.

After fifteen minutes of slipping, falling, cursing and rubbing her behind several times she managed to walk across the ice clumsily, she wasn't quite able to glide yet, but at least she didn't fall that often anymore. Glancing at the shore she made sure Archie was still there, and sure enough the dog was watching her interestedly jumping up and down when she came closer to the shore. About an hour later Santana finally managed to glide carefully across the lake and even had figured out how to stop without falling down and she actually started to enjoy this.

Grinning from ear to ear she decided it was enough for the day, even though she hadn't met her angel, she felt strangely at ease and decided that she had to come here more often. Gliding quite serenely towards the shore she watched Archie jump happily and tossing his bear from side to side. Just as she was only a few feet from the shore she started as she heard a girl's loud cry from somewhere behind her.

"Oh my!... Quinn watch out where you are going! You are going to crash!"

The voice sounded frantic and a bit scared and on reflex Santana turned around to look where the voice had come from. Just as she had turned around, all she could see where pools of hazel, opened wide and for a moment she just stared, mouth open.

"Oh no… Miss... watch out!" the girl sputtered only seconds before she crashed full force into Santana.

Not having anticipated the sudden impact, Santana toppled backwards and landed on the hard ice with a loud thud. For a moment she believed she would pass out as her head hit the ground hard and the world started to spin faster around her, but then she felt someone moving on top of her. Blinking Santana looked down at the mass of golden hair spread across her chest and her heart stopped as the girl lifted her head and shyly looked at her, her face beet red with embarrassment. Their gazes locked and Santana felt something tug at her heart- she knew those eyes.

The girl couldn't help but stare into those mesmerizing deep brown eyes which seemed to suck her in and all of a sudden the world around her didn't seem so important any more.

Finally she realized though that she was still lying on top of the girl and tried to get up as fast as she could. Unfortunately she forgot that she couldn't keep her balance on ice and only a few seconds later landed on top of the young girl again. Also ripped from her daydreaming Santana mind finally came back to reality and realized that she was still sprawled over the ice, a cute girl on top of her... which wasn't all that bad, she figured. Slapping herself mentally she gently took the girl's hands and together they managed to get up. Afraid to land on the ground again any moment, the girl desperately griped Santana's arm trying to balance herself on the ice.

Slowly the voices of her friends came closer and she watched them skate over to where she and that beautiful young latina were. Looking down at her, blushing again, she finally found her voice and thanked her for her help.

Santana smiled gently down at her and shook her head, "No need to thank me, Quinn."

Quinn's eyes went wide and she stared up at her puzzled, "How did you know my name?"

Santana chuckled softly and turned her head into her friends' direction, "They called out your name when you were about to fall."

"Oh" was the soft reply from her lips as she looked down studying her skates.

Santana glanced at the girl, she didn't know why she hadn't wrapped her into her arms already, or why she hadn't asked her if she was the girl from her childhood- she just knew that she was. But she didn't want to just tell Quinn that... something in her wanted Quinn to remember her, she wanted to make sure that Quinn hadn't forgotten about her.

And she also didn't want to risk looking like an idiot. What if she wasn't the Quinn she had known? After all these years of searching for her and being determined to find her and never letting her go again, she couldn't ask this girl now if she was the girl she dreamed of for so long.

What she didn't know was that quite similar thoughts were running through Quinn's head.

They simply didn't have the courage to take the first step, both too afraid to be disappointed. Santana fearing that even if she was her childhood angel, that maybe Quinn had forgotten her over the years and Quinn being afraid that this gorgeous latina wouldn't see anything in her but a clumsy blonde who couldn't even manage to keep her balance on the ice.

Sighing deeply Quinn looked at Santana one last time before starting to unsteadily walk off to where her friends were slowly approaching. Santana watched her clumsily make her way over the ice and had to smile at the lovely picture she made, and she realized that if she didn't try it now, she might never again have a chance.

"Do you want me to help you, Quinn?" she cried after her, slowly starting to glide towards her.

Turning around slowly Quinn looked at Santana with big sparkly eyes. Santana smiled at her and took her hand whispering softly, "You know, we promised we'd learn it together."

Eyes widening in surprise stared at Santana for a moment before it tore from her throat in a gently whisper, "Santana." and Santana swore it was the most wonderful sound she had ever heard in her entire life.

Quinn gripped her hand tightly and waved the other at her friends dismissively. They looked her way worriedly for a moment before stopping and turning around to go grab something hot, deciding to wait for Quinn there.

Their gazes locked and for a moment they both were sure something was going to happen when suddenly the shrill bark of a dog tore them from their stupor. Turning her head to the right Santana fought to keep from laughing as she watched her dog clumsily trying to walk on the ice, falling every few inches, not able to keep balance. She looked at Quinn who stared at her with a puzzled expression upon seeing the dog.

"Is he..?" she trailed off.

"Archie?" Santana offered and Quinn nodded in answer.

"Yes, he's still my best friend in the world." Santana replied chuckling.

Smiling Quinn took her arm and together they made their way towards the poor dog who immediately seemed to recognize the girl he belonged to as a puppy.

"There's so much I need to tell you." Quinn whispered, looking up at Santana who was smiling down at her while she stroked Archies' ears.

"Yes, there is." She agreed.

* * *

Running down the stairs as quickly as she could the young girl tried not to trip over her own two feet. Reaching the living room her eyes went wide. There by the fireplace was the most beautiful Christmas tree she had ever seen. Dozens of nicely wrapped packages were lying around the tree and the stockings on the fireplace were filled with small presents as well.

Her eyes were glowing with happiness as she looked over the room, admiring the way the fire enlightened the gold and blue ornaments on the tree.

When she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder she turned around smiling. The two women were smiling down at her gently, one hand holding the others gently in it's grasp.

"Look what Santa Claus brought us!" the Little girl exclaimed excitedly.

Santana smiled down at her 5 year old daughter who happily started to unwrap her presents. It was like she lived through her all that she had missed in her own childhood. How often she had dreamed of having a Christmas like hers. Now they were giving a child like her a second chance at a home. This was like a dream coming true for her; having a family, warmth and most importantly love.

She looked over at her lovely wife who had sat down on the large couch trying to ease some of the back ache she was experiencing at the moment. Seeing she didn't feel too well, Santana rushed to her side, kneeled beside her and stroke her cheek softly.

"You alright, Quinn?"

Quinn smiled weakly back at her trying to shift into a more comfortable position which was quite impossible at 8 months pregnant.

"Soon, it'll be over and next Christmas the little one will be with us."

"Yes, everything it's perfect San."

Santana smiled at her while getting up and placing a soft butterfly kiss on her forehead.

***The End***

* * *

_Surely I will change the name of this story in the future and this will be a collection of oneshots. If you liked this, feel free to follow this fic. Thank you for reading._


	2. Fallen Angel

For anybody that will be offended by certain religious connotations of this fic, please don't be! I'm not trying to say anything negative about religion.

* * *

**Fallen Angel**

Quinn would always remember the day she saw her fall.

The night before, newscasters on every station had promised a meteor shower sometime in the coming week. They never gave a time and hardly managed to narrow the date down to between February 11th and 12th. In fact, the only thing they seemed remotely certain about was that it was the shower of the millennium, shooting stars totaling to, according to estimates, 133,306,668.

Only through Rachel's incessant allegation that this would the moment of a lifetime did their group of three find themselves climbing up to the roof of the Berry's family house, Quinn clutching the bag of cookies to her chest as she ascended, shooting Brittany apprehensive looks as if wondering how difficult it would be to fend her off if she ever became particularly hungry during the shower.

"Let's get this party started!" Brittany cheered, clapping her hands eagerly. Quinn sighed and handed the cookies to Rachel, both because she was sitting in the middle and because she was the least likely to gulp it down within seconds.

"They said that the shower will be any time from late this evening to early tomorrow morning and might last up to three or four hours," Rachel summarized, jerking her hand back quickly as Brittany lunged for the food.

Brittany shrugged and took a bite, shooting a smug smile at Rachel before the bag was snatched out of her hand. "We've already killed enough time with movies and it's already nearing midnight. Surely it'll come soon."

Rachel frowned at her. "_Surely_ you didn't come here just to eat and watch pointless films, Brittany. You will never be able to see this again unless scientists figure out a way to let humans live beyond a thousand years old."

Quinn waved her hand dismissively. "Just leave her alone. You can't instill an intense love for natural phenomena in a person in just an evening, Rachel."

"I'm not sure I agree with you, Quinn, but I'll leave it there for now. I personally think shooting stars are very romantic," Rachel sighed, gazing into the midnight sky twirling her hair casually. "They've symbolized all sorts of things in the past – death, love, regret, hope-"

"It's starting, it's starting!" Brittany looked ready to jump up and off the roof.

At first nothing more than a small pinprick in the distance sliced a thin line of silver into the sky but even as mere seconds flashed by, they came more and more quickly, bolder and engraving wider bands of light. The moonless sky was alit with the playful plummets of dozens at once, each trailing light and leaving a beautiful and glorious legacy after it.

_Come._

Quinn started and glanced around at her friends. Everybody else was immersed and entranced by the heavenly show of lights.

_Save me._

She jumped, her heart rising to her throat and thumping rhythmically, its tempo rising. Before she knew it, she had leapt to the ground below the roof, landing safely.

"Quinn! What do you think you're doing?" Rachel's frantic cry echoed faintly but that was all. She was already frenziedly running toward some unknown destination, tears in her eyes, mind only focused on the tired and desolate voice in her mind.

…

She only slowed once she reached unknown territory. Even the stitch in her side and the painful wheezing of lungs unaccustomed to enduring sprinting for such a long time hadn't stopped her. Her long, sunny hair was slipping out of her pony tail and but she didn't take notice.

It was completely dark around her save for the meteors falling, leaving fiery trails of overwhelming light. It was completely silent save for her labored breathing.

And then she saw it.

Wings thrashing, straining, multiple figures in flowing robes of crimson, the trail of light dyed scarlet.

_Catch me._

Quinn froze but shook her head quickly and ran toward the falling stars. Falling, yes, for they were not shooting and certainly were not soaring. They were flailing, plunging to the stern, cold ground.

And without giving further thought to whether or not she was physically capable of catching one, she reached.

And tumbled uncoordinatedly to the ground, arms tightly wrapped around a body with powerful wings that beat tirelessly but in vain. They came to a stop, her hand dragging painfully across gravel. She didn't bother stopping the tears that came to her eyes and kept her gaze focused on the figure leaning heavily on her, knowing that the sight of blood would make her nauseous. Her deafening breathing filled the air. Her wings never stopped beating.

Only then did she notice the movement of other wings around her, lashing out wildly trying to return their owners to the air. Only then did she notice the disconcerting thumps each body made as it impacted the ground.

And then there was silence. Again, the pure, beauteous silence followed by the gentlest caress of water on her cheeks. It began to rain.

And what glorious rain. The drops glimmered gold like drops of molten light.

In its pouring rhythm, the body in her arms stirred. She tried to lay her down gently on the ground but stopped as she groaned and hissed. She pushed her back and attempted to stand, the feathers of her wings dismally wet. Her right leg buckled and she came tumbling down. But she raised her head slowly and her eyes met Quinn's.

"How long has it been?" Her voice came out halfway between a snarl and a whisper, soft but faintly grating to the ears. Quinn blinked at her dumbly, trying to catch her breath. "How long has it been since the rain started?"

"A-about half a minute."

"Merde," she muttered and attempted again to stand. Quinn was not very attached to French, but but she vaguely remembered that once in class, the teacher had laughingly warned them about adding a "r" and to "mer". _Because then you would say something quite unpleasant, _she had joked.

"Your leg's hurt. There's no way you can stand," Quinn stuttered and reached for her, but she shoved Quinn back and glanced wildly around her, eyes panicked. Quinn followed her gaze and gasped.

The bodies around them were dissolving into the ground. Quinn shuddered and turned back to the girl in front of her.

Her wings were melting off her back, noiselessly falling to the ground in black drops. Before a minute had chance to pass by, they were gone completely, leaving her, crimson robe soaking and hanging desolately, as the rain let up and the sky returned to its moonless splendor.

She stared at Quinn with horror and hatred.

"What have you done?" she whispered.

Quinn lower lip trembled as she stared up at the girl, glorious even without her wings.

The mysterious girl slowly brought a hand up to where her chest was and held it there, eyes disbelieving. "It's beating again." The hand flew to her nose. "I'm bre-" But her body finally decided it had had enough and she fell backwards. Quinn barely had time to catch her by the shoulders and protect her head.

…

Her mother didn't question her authority as Quinn half limped into the room, not due to personal injury but because of the body she was attempting to carry. In fact, Judy Fabray did nothing more than pale and hurry to the master bedroom for a few blankets. And though Russel Fabray's eyes widened to the size of saucers at the sight of his precious daughter coming into such vulgar contact with a person he had never seen before, albeit an unconscious one, he did nothing more than utter a short "hrmph" and turned away, burying his head in his newspaper.

A small groan scratched its way out of the girls throat as Quinn laid her onto the couch, gratefully accepting the blankets her mother offered and draping them over her. Quinn's legs wobbled and she sat with a small sigh, refusing to budge, half out of exhaustion and half out of concern and determination.

"Quinnie," Judy started softly, "I really don't know what happened to this young girl but whatever the circumstances, I believe you did the right…" She trailed off at the sight of Quinn's closed eyes and serene breathing, smiling at the contradictory picture the two created together.

With her golden hair splayed around her and her cool, rosy cheeks, Quinn had laid her head gently beside the girls form like a faithful angel guarding over a demon with dark, dark hair and perfectly natural tanned skin. The two ideas seemed to clash – chastity and temptation, fidelity and perfidy, heaven and hell.

…

She stirred and winced at the ache in her arm when she moved to bring it to her head. Squinting, her eyes opened slowly and glanced around her. An unfamiliar ceiling, a strange smell, and- she jumped and forced herself up to a sitting position. There was a girl beside her, still not quite awake but already stretching her arms out. She had almost mistaken her for a feminine version of Michael.

Michael. That brought back horrible memories. How long has it been since she'd seen Michael, shining so gloriously beside the diadem of Him?

She caught her smiling at her but behind that smile she could see doubts and some fear.

"Are you okay?"

She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, clear brown eyes reopening and glaring. "What did you do?"

Quinn looked puzzled. "What do you mean 'what did you do'?"

She shot her a strange look. "I go by Ariel." She frowned at her still questioning look. "You can call me Santana if you like."

"Santana." She smiled as if the name tasted sweet.

"You do not known who Ariel is?"

Quinn bit her lip. It was all the answer Santana needed.

"What are you learning in schools now? Last time I'd checked, they were still focusing heavily on the Old Testament." Quinn blinked, and she shot her a look of exasperation. "Do you know Enoch I?"

Quinn laughed sheepishly. "I'm really not that well versed in the Bible."

Santana scowled, and her smile slowly withered away. "Ever heard of Satan?" Santana smiled, though not kindly, at the sudden gravity of her expression. "When Satan fell, one-third of heaven's angels had been allied with him. 133,306,668 of them fell as shooting stars to hell."

Quinn shuddered as she shot her a small smirk but couldn't spare enough thought to urge her body to move away. "S-so … you're a demon?"

"A fallen angel is a prettier term."

"But then… why were you falling today?"

Santana glowered at her. "It's the anniversary of the first fall. This happens once in a millennium. It's… a reenactment."

"You were supposed to melt into the ground then," Quinn concluded softly.

"By the light of God," Santana replied though Quinn couldn't tell if the answer was supposed to be sarcastic or sorrowful.

"But I managed to keep you on earth?"

Santana shot her an annoyed glare. "Don't say that as if you've done me a favor. I'd much rather be in hell at the moment." Her hand involuntarily went to her chest, again feeling the strong heartbeat.

There was a pause before Quinn shifted. "It doesn't matter. I have to help you until you get better."

"You won't like me," Santana said, almost smugly. "Fallen angels aren't particularly charming."

Qunn shook her head emphatically. "It doesn't matter. I've already promised myself to help you." She shifted uncomfortably under Santana intense brown eyes and frowned. "What?"

"You remind me of Michael," Santana replied slowly, brown eyes still trained on her and calculating as if tearing her apart and analyzing each limb.

"Michael?"

Santana shook her head defeatedly. "You really know nothing about the scripture, do you?"

Her perpetual frown lightened a bit at the sight of Quinn's faintly resentful expression. Michael. She was almost exactly like him. That realization in itself struck a despondent note to the rhythm of her again beating heart.

…

From her position behind the kitchen counter, Quinn could see past the windowpane screening the balcony through which the purest rays of a sunset were streaming. She – Santana – had been standing there all day, ever since she woke up a bit after dawn. Quinn, with her own social commitments, had only bothered to glance at her a few times, to make sure she was okay and not doubling over like when her heart first started beating again.

The slight breeze stirred her hair and the white dress Quinn had gave her out of her own closet. Every once in awhile she would pull her shoulders back and after a pause of tension, let go slowly, as if defeatedly breathing out. She was unaccustomed to going about without wings. Every once in awhile, she would flinch and stretch her arms out audaciously from her leaning position against the rail as if daring a greater being to let her fall and plummet to death once again. And every once in awhile, she would hold her hand out, meekly, shudderingly, as if just realizing her entire form was bathing in sunlight, the supposed physical manifestation of Him.

The picture she made, caged behind glass, cold in her lofty world of sunlight and shadows, a solitary figure captured secretly, as if the window served as a lens into her privacy, her intimacy, told epic tales of times long forgotten and places far, far away.

Quinn felt like crying.

…

Santana concentrated on breathing in and out. When had this simple action become so laborious? It's been ages since she's had to breathe more than a couple of times per hour, ages since she's been caught between heaven and hell, mesmerized by the strong beat of a human heart.

There were scars on her back where wings had sprouted. She knew without having to look or feel. They were a haunting vestige of what she was not a day ago and every time she tried to flex her wings, the scars twinged. But she didn't wince. She had forgotten what it was like to wince.

He was surrounding her. He was present all around her, guarding these flimsy creatures He had made these creatures that had betrayed Him and murdered His Son in the most agonizing way known. And yet He forgave them. The fragile creatures continued on, immersed in their own little lives, like unaware ants.

Santana clenched her fists. These useless creatures were not worthy of so great a benefactor. They did not deserve to be called creations of a being so powerful that with one wave of His hand, Satan and his angels were flung from sanctity.

The sun was gone. And those miserable creatures returned to their houses, another day passing without waging war, without hypocritical promises of peace, without famine, hatred, anger. Santana sighed heavily, the action vaguely familiar, and stood up, pulling the window screen open and entering the living room.

And there she was, one of those terrible creatures, tears dripping down smooth cheeks as her hair threw slate gray shadows on her face. Her eyes widened and she managed a watery smile, wiping her eyes quickly with a desultory sleeve.

"Are you hungry, San-" Santana walked past her into the kitchen as her words died in her throat. Santana didn't hear her gasp as she stared fascinatingly at a small kitchen knife. Her heart pounded loudly, its volume increasing, the sound of glorious life. She pressed the silver flash to her wrist and watched with curiosity.

So this was pain to human beings. So this is what His Son had felt like as they carelessly sacrificed Him in the name of Satan. So this was-

"You idiot!" Quinn slapped the knife out of her hand and it skittered across the kitchen tile, leaving spots of vermilion. Santana empty eyes rose to meet hers and she blinked.

"What do you think you're doing?! You're not immortal anymore! You can die like that!" Quinn looked close to tears again.

"No…" Santana muttered to herself.

Quinn frowned. "What?"

"No, not immortal."

The blonde's shoulders fell and her forehead smoothed as she stared at Santana bemusedly.

"It was a state of death." Santana took a deep breath. "Of being chained and of having one's legs frozen in ice while one's arms strained and one's wings flexed fruitlessly."

Quinn shook her head and replaced her stunned expression with one of determination. "I don't care. You're alive now and we have to stop that bleeding."

"This," she lifted her arm up to her face, "is a gift from Him." She leaned in and pressed her lips against the wound. It faded into a scar and she let the hand drop, looking up and taking in Quinn's shocked expression. With lips stained scarlet, her skin looked paler in comparison to those deep-set dark, dark brown eyes and hair of earthy shadows.

Quinn stared.

The corners of her lips twitched. "Are you afraid of me?"

Beautiful hazel narrowed into murderous slivers. "Of course not. I would never be afraid of a person who is so pathetic as to wallow in self-pity for her death. I-" She gasped and held still. With lightening quick movements, Santana had reclaimed the knife across the room and was holding it coolly against her throat, expression calm and serene.

"Don't ever say that again."

Quinn's glare slowly melted away. "No matter what happened, Santana, there is always redemption. Accept what happened and come to terms with it, move on. Because a life that is governed by one's actions in the past … is not a life at all."

Santana stared at Quinn's hands clasped around her own, slowly guiding her hand, moving the knife away from her throat.

"I'm sorry for whatever happened to you. I don't know whether or not you deserved to join Satan but … let go, Santana, and come away with your second chance – this second chance to breathe again." Quinn smiled up at her and couldn't help but laugh a little when Santana jerked her hand from her grasp, turned abruptly, and headed upstairs.

…

Quinn woke to the whispering sound of sheets moving against sheets and glanced around blearily. It was still dark and from her lying position on the floor, she glanced up at the bed and saw Santana tossing and turning. Frowning, she yawned and glanced at her alarm clock and sighed. Two hours had passed since she ceded her bed to Santana in an act of courtesy. Getting up, she reached over and gently touched her shoulder. She barely had time to pull back as her hand struck out like a cobra, clenching around her wrist. There was a brief flash of the moonlight's glare on dark, smoky brown irises as Santana turned to glare at her.

"Are you okay?" Quinn stuttered. Santana was breathing heavily and had turned away from her, pupils still dilated, hand still wrapped around her wrist.

"I'm fine," she replied abruptly. Her panting turned to reasonable breaths and the hold around her wrist loosened, her hand falling back to the bed.

Quinn bit her lip and hid her hand behind her back, unwilling to study the red imprints of fingers on her wrist. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No." The word came out almost before she finished the question.

Quinn sighed and lied back down on the floor, flinging the covers over her hand. "Whatever you want," she replied, voice muffled by the blanket.

…

There was immaculate silence at the breakfast table. Her mother had left to check up on a friend and her father had disappeared into the garage. It was a Friday, February the 13th, and snow had been drifting outside nonstop since around nine o'clock the previous night, leaving the streets frozen and barren with lopsided snowmen springing up in each neighborhood yard.

When Santana cleared her throat, Quinn looked up.

"Are…" she hesitated – it was the first time Quinn had ever seen her hesitate. "…are you okay?" Santana nodded at her left wrist resting limply on the table. Quinn cocked her head and glanced carelessly at the bruises in the outlines of her fingers, shrugging.

"It doesn't matter."

Santana looked like she wanted to say more so Quinn set her fork down and stared at her. "Spit it out," she ordered crankily. She had never been a morning person. Santana narrowed her eyes at her and looked ready to hiss but at the last moment, brushed the order off.

"Is it painful?"

"This?" she held her wrist up and frowned. "Of course. But nothing I can't handle."

"Humans are resilient creatures." Santana seemed to be making a mental note of that before clearing her throat again. "It's been so long since I've experienced pain on such an… intimate level."

Quinn blinked.

"Being in hell, of course, isn't pleasant. Over time, one learns to disassociate oneself from the pain … project a fictional self in a more pleasant environment while pushing the real self to the back of one's mind." Santana smiled, silently mocking herself. "I don't suppose that has a name in psychological terminology?"

"I wouldn't know," Quinn replied shortly. The smile on Santana's face was replaced by a small smirk, hardly a twitch of the corners of her mouth.

"What I meant to say is that … if you want to, I can heal it for you."

Quinn looked up at her, hazel eyes wide and questioning. Santana stared back, face serious, her bone structure creating smooth planes. Those brown eyes, reminiscent of her history as an angel gazed at her unblinkingly, standing out against her skin.

"Will you let me?" Santana whispered, thin lips moving so articulately that even an amateur like Quinn could have read them.

Shakily, Quinn handed her wrist over and she took it with both hands, gently, almost reverently and studied the imprint she had left. Quinn stared. Something about her had changed. The image of her snarling at her was still fresh in her mind, but at this moment, there was a softer light in those amazing eyes, a light that spoke of pretty trinkets, of glorious wings, of golden dreams.

Santana slowly brought her wrist to her lips as she had done with her own the previous night. There was absolute stillness for an endless moment and both of them did nothing but breathe, her warm breath brushing against her wrist, and hers increasing in pace as her heart sped up.

Santana glanced up at her, lips still pressed to the inside of her wrist and her heart froze. That look. That calm, tender, angelic look.

Was not for her. Never for her.

Santana was lost in some past memory, some faded person, imagining someone else in her place.

Quinn jerked her wrist back and stood up so quickly that the kitchen chair tipped over backwards.

"Don't use me like that," she whispered harshly. There was still a trace of purple on her wrist as she held it to her chest.

Santana frowned quizzically.

Quinn shook her head and stormed out of the kitchen.

…

Quinn was already sleeping by the time she entered the room. Flipping the lights off, Santana headed toward the bed.

"Will you tell me about this person?" Quinn voice was small and childlike. Santana stopped and glanced at her, surprise registering in her usually blank expression.

"Don't be so surprised. You know I'm right." Quinn sat up and smiled up at her. "So tell me."

Santana frowned. "I've never told anyone about her." She paused. "Except for Him. But I told Him …" she sought for a word, "…involuntarily."

Quinn looked shocked at her words. "How can you never tell anyone? You were in love, right? I'm sure you loved her. You loved her with all of your heart. Didn't you feel like singing it to the world? Love is like that." She glanced down at her hands. "Like now. I want to shout it from the rooftops that I'm in love."

Santana glanced aside and tried to curb the strange, rearing tendrils of envy. She had become dexterous at turning black feeling away – anger, hatred, jealousy. Ever since the falling, her head had been filled with nothing other than devious thoughts, dark thoughts, horrible fantasies splattered with blood that reeked of death.

"Who?" she asked casually.

Quinn grinned at her and pressed her lips against her left wrist where the purple had faded to lavender. "You."

Santana shifted uncomfortably and scowled at her. "When you were a child … did you ever meet a strange, blonde, young boy?"

Quinn's brow furrowed curiously. "Why do you ask?"

"Just wondering."

"Well, to be truthful, yes."

Santana's eyes flashed up to meet hers, indiscernible.

"I was trying to save a kitten from a lake I used to live near but I accidentally fell in and I couldn't swim." She paused to laugh sheepishly. "And just when I felt myself sinking, somebody grasped my hand and pulled me up out of the water. At first I thought he was an angel with the sun shining behind his head, creating a halo of gold but he spoke to me. And smiled at me. Led me home by the hand, chatting so cheerfully, smiling and laughing." Quinn closed her eyes and smiled to herself. "I think he was my first love," she giggled embarrassedly.

Santana didn't look amused. "What was his name?"

"Sam."

"Michael."

Quinn eyed her questioningly.

"You were touched by Michael. I should have known."

"Michael…? Oh! The person I reminded you of?"

Santana was silent for awhile. "Michael. The archangel Michael that is the greatest of the seven archangels. Those that he touch tend to develop certain characteristics of his and those that he touch are given a gift worthy of a seraphim."

"Gift?"

"Yes. You are given the love of everybody you meet." She sighed to herself and stated, in a softer tone, "She was also touched by Michael."

"She," Quinn repeated.

"She," Santana echoed defeatedly, signifying the end of the conversation.

…

"Santana, Santana! Wake up! It's still snowing! It's snowing on Valentine's Day!" Her giddy laughter followed soon after before Santana felt hands not-so-gently shaking her awake. Cracking one eye open, she grabbed hold of her wrists and pushed her away, sitting up. Quinn just laughed.

But her laughter died as she saw Santana's serious expression as she stared out the window.

"What?"

"It's the third day," Santana replied in a faraway voice. "It's the day of rebirth." [1]

Her expression sobered. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Santana turned back to her and eyed her with gravity. "I didn't forget what you said last night. About love. I admit without shame that I can't help but fall in love with you but that is nothing more than an effect of Michael's gift." She smiled derisively to herself. "I know that and I still can't help it. Michael … thou art mighty yet."

"No, it's okay. I understand completely. You still love her." Quinn was turned away from her, gazing out at the snow.

"She's been dead for over twenty milleniums. Even Michael's gift can't hold for that long."

Quinn glanced over her shoulder at her but Santana wasn't looking at her. Sighing, she turned back and sat on the floor beside the bed.

"Santana. Tell me why you went to hell."

Santana's eyes hardened as she looked at her. "Haven't you ever heard the tale of Satan's fall? I betrayed Him. I supported Satan."

"That's not the only reason, is it?" Her voice was heartbreakingly soft.

Santana didn't say anything for awhile. "I went to hell because of Michael. Because of-"

"Love," Quinn finished and smiled up at her vaguely startled expression. "I thought so."

"Yes. Because of the girl who was touched by Michael. He had saved her right before she was about to freeze in the snow. Her name was Rosalyn."

"Rosalyn," Quinn repeated. The word tasted of splendid beauty, magnificent tranquility.

"She looked similar to you." Santana frowned to herself. "To Michael," she amended after a pause.

"And she was the reason you went with Satan?"

"There is a fine line between love and lust that is infinitely easy to cross. An angel must never cross it. He deemed it so." Santana hesitated and looked ready to seal away her cold heart and scold her seditious tongue.

"He made it so that no angel is allowed to fall in love. Period. Not that kind of love, at least. We understood familial love, divine love, platonic love. We were pure. But we were fake." Her lips pulled back slightly and she looked ready to bear her teeth. "We were nothing more than empty porcelain dolls."

"But you fell in love with Rosalyn."

Her eyelids lowered until her eyes were almost closed. "And for that, I paid a grievous price."

"So you won't love ever again. You won't…"

"I don't think it's good for me to stay here."

Quinn couldn't meet her eyes. "I don't care. You're an angel."

"No. I haven't been an angel for more than a dozen milleniums. I'm a demon, Quinn. I'm evil. I am filled with hatred and void of love."

Quinn smiled. It was the first time Santana had said her name outright. She shook her head vehemently. "No, Santana, you're not a demon. Would a demon be talking so heart-brokenly about her lost love? Would a demon have looked so tenderly at an illusion of her lost love?" She grasped Santana's hand in hers and smiled when she frowned.

"And would a demon have a heart beating so strongly, so purely, with so much desire to live?" She slowly guided her hand to Santana's chest.

"You're not a demon, Santana, and for that I love you. You don't realize that and for that, I chastise you."

She waited in silence before, finally, Santana looked up at her and smirked. "It is the day of rebirth. His Son joined him on the third day. It is the day of…" Santana took a deep breath, "…of redemption."

Her hand was still at her heart. "I might never feel this again," Santana sighed, glowering at the floor. "I might never taste sweet air again," she took another deep breath and let her hand fall, tracing the scar left from her cutting her wrist. "I might never feel such vivid pain again."

She frowned to herself. "But I might never love again."

Santana reached over from her sitting position on the floor and tipped Quinn's face up, lowering her face to hers before pausing. There was consummate silence as they sat, breathing, hearts beating, experiencing the feel, smell, taste of love.

She pressed her lips to Quinn's, warmly, tenderly. And Quinn saw it. Images of scarlet blood, of silver violence, of black hate flashed past her eyes but along with it…

Along with it was rose-colored love, white peace, cerulean joy.

Santana fell back onto the floor and didn't get up.

"You're going to die," Quinn whispered. It was a statement. Santana didn't say anything as the outline of wings was traced into the beige carpet as if by an invisible artist. The thunder of her heart in her head was slowing, stopping and the warm sanctity of blood was leaving.

But Quinn was staring so lovingly down at her, smiling through chaste tears, loving her despite veils of midnight hate.

_He_ might not understand yet that love made a person, angel or not, whole but Santana was sure … certain … that sooner or later, He will understand. But until then … there was the young girl gazing with that forbidden emotion at her … and hope.

The snow continued falling outside on the third day, redeeming the world with flakes of crystal white. The sky looked more and more blue, more and more tender by the moment. And as Santana faded away, words sprung up like daffodils, carving themselves in history.

"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres." [2]

**The End**

* * *

[1] "Third day, day of redemption" For those of you unfamiliar with this; third day = Easter Sunday = Jesus rising to heaven. I am perfectly aware that it is not in February, but it seemed fitting so I leave it there.

[2] 1 Corinthians 13:4–8a. Holy Bible: New International Version.

For those of you offended that I seemed to have made God the bad guy here, (religión is always a touchy issue) I really intended no such thing. It just seemed like a pleasantly angsty idea at the time. To die for love. Literally.


	3. Freedom is a Beach

Freedom is a beach.

Ocean waves lapping against warm, fine sand, a bright sun high in the sky and barely a whisper of clouds up ahead. Such paradises do exist - but they are rarely empty.

That went for this beach as well, despite it being towards the end of the season. Clouds drifted by sporadically, the waves crashed in just a bit rougher, and neither sun nor water was as warm as a mere few weeks before. That didn't really matter; it was still a safe haven for one Quinn Fabray; sole heir of a reasonably successful holding company based in the city but a stone's throw or two hundred from the beach Quinn was currently relaxing on.

As almost every morning, she'd spread out her towel near tower fourteen, her bag placed to rest beside her. She'd removed her dress, folded it, and put it into the bag. She had applied sunblock and sunglasses to herself and laid down on the towel to soak sun, closed her eyes and allowed her mind to drift like the rare cloud high above.

For a few hours every day, this was her escape from destiny.

It was a few hours she greatly treasured - usually the only time she could live without the burden of her future hanging overhead. Her father's public profile was reasonably noticeable, but her own was nowhere near as well known. That small blessing was what allowed her to come here in the first place. Their chief of security - the burly and stubborn man that was Larry - would undoubtedly have insisted on a full, armed escort otherwise. In fact, Quinn was surprised Larry even permitted this much. While Quinn couldn't blame the man for doing his job, she often wished he was a little less effective.

On the beach, that did not matter. Being boss - or just boss-in-training - allowed for flexible hours. This whole summer had been great that way.

Of course, she didn't just come for the sun, or for a daily dip and swim - she could have done that in the large indoor pool back home. The people had much to do with her coming here. The chance to mingle with regular people rather than the so-called elite her duties to the family business often demanded was something Quinn greatly appreciated. Helping kids build sandcastles and joining informal beach volleyball games felt oddly liberating.

There was also the fact she'd learned how to fake dozing off while observing the world from behind her dark sunglasses. One trick was to make sure it was your eyes that moved, not your head. There was much to behold on a beach; much that was covered in far less.

She might not fool a careful observer, but most of the scantily clad and often rather attractive bodies that passed close by did not seem to care about being watched. Being a looker didn't bother her much, either - after all, spread out on her big towel wearing only a dark blue bikini, she was giving just as much back to the flesh feast as she got from it. It wasn't as if she hadn't gotten some glances of interest this summer.

There weren't as many to ogle now, though. The summer was coming to a close, and businesses and schools were emerging from their mothballed state. A mild gust passed Quinn, brushing sand against her tanned skin. She sighed, tried to get a bearing of the time by checking where the sun was. It looked like her allotted time was running out again.

She put her sunglasses away in the bag, tossed in the cheap paperback novel she'd skimmed a few pages of and zipped the flaps closed. Standing up, she brushed traces of sand off herself, much of it sticking to remainders of sunblock and traces of sweat.

That could easily be fixed. With a grin, she shuffled down to the water, then out in it. For the first few steps, a shiver went up her spine. The water wasn't too cold yet, but it was not as comfortable as she'd gotten used to. Last weekend had seen heavy rains, and there hadn't been enough sunshine to warm up the ocean again afterwards.

Even so, she dived in as soon as depth allowed, making sure to soak herself entirely. Once under, she burst back to the surface, drying her blond, wet hair with her hands. Then she started doing laps, going from tower fourteen down towards tower thirteen and back again.

Not until she was satisfied - and her body started growing numb - did she decide to call it quits.

Dry sand leaped up to cling to her feet and ankles as she came out of the water. It didn't bother her; the tickle of sand between her toes had grown on her. It was still a bit irritating if it stuck there the entire day, though. Once too often she'd discovered fine, dry sand as she took off her shoes for the night.

Quinn didn't head back for her towel right away. Instead, she made a detour for short line of public showers, intent on washing the worst remainder of saltwater, sand, sunblock and sweat off of her. She put the water on, turned her back to the wall, arched her head back to soak her hair thoroughly, slashing some of the cool water over her face as well.

She glanced out over the sparsely populated beach. This morning, fast growing on lunch, there were barely three or four dozen people scattered across the wide stretch of sand - at least the part within sight. Perhaps yesterday's less than perfect weather report had deterred the rest. It was okay, though. While it left less to peep at, it also left less crowding to, from and in the water -not to mention the shower stalls. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been the only one to take advantage of the five hose-down showerheads.

Quinn turned around slowly, making sure to wash off chest and arms, as well other places the faucet had trouble hitting directly. She put her hands on her head, squeezed flat palms across her blonde curls, letting the scattered spray rain against her face again.

"Excuse me? Miss?"

Startled, she turned to face the voice, the water still drumming against her chest. She wiped a hand down across her brows and eyes, blinked. A young woman leaned casually against the end of the shower wall. Quinn wasn't sure what struck her first -the young woman's gorgeous face or the traditional red swimsuit that marked her as a lifeguard- or maybe it was the seductive smile on her face.

Quinn blinked again, gulped, cleared her throat. "Uh... yes?"

A shiver raced Quinn's back as she felt the lifeguard's eyes sweep over her, top to toe and back again, just a bit too slowly to be entirely casual. The lifeguard's smile shifted towards a smirk. "You really ought to protect your valuables better..."

That cold shiver turned decidedly warm by the time it reached Quinn's face. Was this girl-

The lifeguard raised her hand, twirled something around her index finger - a set of keys on a tight rubber band.

Quinn immediately glanced at her wrist, clasped it, realizing it was entirely naked - which it had not been when she left her towel.

The lifeguard tossed her the keys. Quinn did her best to catch them, succeeding on the second attempt, just before they could clatter against the finely meshed drainage. Briefly, she grinned, before it dawned on her she'd bent over, pretty much showing the lifeguard her-

She straightened up, her cheeks warming up more than ever. The lifeguard's partially obscured smirk didn't help her embarrassment the slightest. She quickly applied the rubber band around her wrist, her car and house keys back where they belonged; close at hand at all times. "Thanks, you're a real lifesaver."

Immediately, she felt like slapping her hand to her face - especially as she saw the grin before her.

So - in moderation - she did it, momentarily covering her eyes with her right palm. "_Please,_ tell me I didn't just say that..."

She heard a quiet chuckle. "I'm afraid you did..."

"Damn..." Quinn muttered, hesitantly making eye contact again. "I'm sorry - thank you. Don't know what I would have done if-"

"You would have searched for a long time, I'd imagine. Don't worry - you're welcome." The lifeguard pushed away from the wall, gave Quinn a nod. "Enjoy the rest of your stay, but like I said, be careful with your valuables. You never know when someone might try to make a grab for them."

Quinn couldn't think of a comeback before it was much too late.

She finished rinsing herself off and headed back for her stuff. She toweled herself reasonably dry, put on her dress, a pair of sandals and tucked the towel away. She jingled the keys on her wrist, rocking them up into her palm, clasping them.

It was time to head back to the office anyway, with perhaps a brief stop at home to change first.

The mental image of a partially obscured smile stuck with her for most of the day - as well as the face and body attached.

It was only with mild anticipation - and a touch of hope - that Quinn returned to her usual place near tower fourteen the following morning. She certainly wouldn't have minded if the lifeguard from yesterday would happen to stroll by while she was relaxing behind her sunglasses.

Quinn spread out her towel, grinning to herself. She got the definite feeling the lifeguard had been interested in her - and, in retrospect, Quinn couldn't deny she liked what she'd seen too.

As she began applying sunblock to her arms and chest, she did not give much odds to them meeting again, though.

Soon enough, she wished she'd bet her entire inheritance.

"Is this spot taken?"

A bit startled, Quinn turned to look, mouth already open to give a polite - perhaps a trace sarcastic - reply, given how the beach was far from crowded, at least not here. However, the partially veiled smile from yesterday momentarily robbed Quinn of the ability to speak.

Slight chuckle. "I take that as a no, then." The girl unrolled her straw mat next to Quinn and put down her light beach bag.

"You're - you're the one from yesterday," Quinn was finally able to say. "The-"

"Lifesaver?" the girl finished for her.

Her cheeks were warming up nicely, too. "Uh - yeah." She said with a sheepish grin.

"I'm off-duty today, though," the lifeguard answered, tugging at her shorts. She reached out her hand. "I'm Santana."

Without thinking too much, Quinn extended her right hand to meet Santana's, and just as she said, "I'm Quinn," their palms met with a squishy sound. It took but a second for Quinn to notice, glance at the bottle of sunblock in her left hand. Inwardly, she cursed, pulling her hand back. "Damn - I'm sorry, I didn't think-"

Santana just looked at her hand, grinning. "No big deal, it's only sunblock - right?"

Quinn nodded.

"Need help with your back?" Santana flashed her palm. "I mean, I'm already greased up and ready to go."

The urge to play ostrich and hide her face was tremendous. The sand was probably cool and refreshing just a bit down. "Uh..." her brain kicked in again and she nodded, trying her best to wipe the silly grin off her face as she handed Santana the bottle, laid down and rolled over on her stomach.

Her heart beat faster still as she felt Santana straddle her hips. She heard the cap come off, felt the cold strip of sunblock be poured along her spine.

Santana put the bottle aside, rubbed her hands together and applied them to Quinn's shoulder-blades, tentatively moving her palms in circles, spreading a thin layer of sunblock on Quinn's skin. She swiped her fingers over Quinn's shoulders, brushed fingertips against her upper arms before slipping down, repeatedly crossing the fine line she'd painted along Quinn's spine. Slowly, as her hands wandered down, Santana spread the sunblock out evenly, making sure not to neglect Quinn's sides either.

There was a brief pause when Quinn let go a content sigh, dangerously close to a moan. For that short moment, she tensed up, wondering if she'd been wrong after all. Relief was great as Santana's hands worked her back again.

When Santana's got lower, she made sure to slide her palms down Quinn's sides, the weakest of grips against Quinn's waist. "Want me to do your legs too?"

"Yes, please..." Quinn breathed out contently. If Santana simply asked, she'd consider letting her do more than just her _legs_...

The pressure against her thighs vanished as Santana shifted to kneel next to her knees. Santana reached for the bottle again, poured small specks at Quinn's calves and got to work. With the same steady motions, she kneaded the sunblock in, long since abandoning pretence she was merely smearing it out. She was certainly rubbing it in - and Quinn didn't mind the slightest.

Calves tended, Santana's palms went upward, massaging Quinn's lower thighs, cautiously pressing on.

Without being asked, Quinn spread her legs a bit, wondering for a moment just how far Santana would dare go. Santana touches were affecting more than just her breathing and heartbeat.

"Okay, all done..."

_Oh, no, we're not..._ Quinn thought, sated. Still, they were in public, and she barely knew Santana's name. It was a bit early to jump the girl and propose far naughtier things than this simple... favor. Instead, she made sure to turn her head and give Santana a brief, unsatisfied pout, soon mellowed over in a truer, content smile. "Thank you..."

Santana sat down on her mat, the thin, partly obscured smile again there to drive Quinn crazy. "You're welcome..."

"Oh," Quinn suddenly thought. "Do you want me to do your back?"

"That's okay - I buttered up before I got here."

There was no hiding the disappointment in Quinn's voice, nor on her face. "Oh..."

Santana cocked her head. "Well, I didn't know I'd get a hot blonde offering her services, now did I?"

That helped lift Quinn's spirits. So did the quick spiel of Santana removing her shirt. Quinn made sure to ogle Santana's chest as much as she could while she remained unobserved. She added a few appreciative glances afterwards too, just to give Santana the right idea.

Santana reached into her beach bag for a pair of sunglasses matching Quinn's, donned those and laid down on her back. She folded her hands behind her head, making sure to maintain just enough of a tilt to allow for eye contact with Quinn.

They exchanged looks only for a while, neither sure where to start. In the end, Quinn swallowed some of her pride. "I... I really appreciated your help yesterday. Thank you."

Santana shrugged. "Don't worry about it."

"Uhm... Santana?"

"Hm?"

"How long have you been a lifeguard?"

Santana looked up at the sky, her sunglasses and the off angle of the sun ensuring no damage to her eyes. "I went through training this spring. I'm not a full-time lifeguard, I've only been through rudimentary training. They needed people to fill in during the summer season, and the pay was good, so I signed up for a part-time job here. I'm still studying, and I have to cover expenses somehow. This seemed like a good job." She tilted her head to give Quinn a wink. "Not just the pay. The beach provides plenty of perks."

Quinn let out a faint snort. "...but you wouldn't abuse the... uniform... like that, would you?"

"Of course not... That's why I approached you today, and not all the other times you've laid here like the devil's temptation..."

"Other times?"

Santana nodded towards tower fourteen. "I've been stationed there for most of the summer. You seem to really like this spot - I've seen you here almost every time I've been on duty."

Quinn gave a sullen frown. "You've been here all summer? How come I didn't recognize you? If you've been here all the time, I must have seen you dozens of times. I'm pretty sure I would have remembered you..."

Santana flashed her a grin, considered her reply for a moment, then rolled over on her side, her back against Quinn. "Does this look familiar?"

Quinn was lost in the search for a good reply. Her eyes couldn't quite focus either, her gaze drifting down along Santana's spine, lingering briefly at the other girl botton, down thighs and shins, before reaching Santana's heels and backtracking all the way up to her neck. She certainly saw plenty, and appreciated it - but what Santana was getting at was beyond her skill of observation.

She tried not to show disappointment when Santana rolled back over, facing her again. "See, we're usually out on the railing, scouting for trouble - either that, or out patrolling the beach." She glanced over at the tower. "From this angle, I suppose you'd see my back more often than my face."

There was no questioning the appeal of either view, Quinn decided - but answered with a simple nod. It was a fair enough reasoning. It also wasn't as if she spent her veiled glances towards the tower, either. There was far more flesh to feast hungry eyes on at ground level.

Like now. Whenever Santana's smile became too much, her sight wandered down. That Santana obviously noticed didn't make it easier when they faced again. Quinn tried to concentrate, think of a way to turn the tables. It wasn't as if she was the only one having less than innocent thoughts. "...you took a chance, being so carefree with your hands earlier..."

Santana tilted her head and flickered her brows. "Did I?" The smile curled a tad. "But you enjoyed it, didn't you?"

Quinn didn't answer right away, simply returned the slight grin.

That was more than enough for Santana. "I figured if you _were_ opposed to the idea after all, you'd just deck me as soon as I straddled you." Grin obvious now, Santana continued. "Do you know how many straight girls would let themself be straddled by some stranger girl on a public beach?"

Quinn shook her head, accepting the implication - it was true, and Santana already knew it. "From what I've seen, I'd say too damn few..."

Letting out soft laughter and a warm smile Santana stretched herself out again, weaving her fingers behind her head. "Exactly. No one would want to give the wrong idea, or in this case; the right one."

For a few moments, neither spoke. Quinn digested what she'd learned so far - what she'd told Santana so far. Perhaps, just perhaps they could become friends - or better yet, something more. Another not-so-innocent thought came to mind, and she struggled to entirely suppress the scene from playing before her mind's eye. "Uh, you said you were a student, what are you studying?"

Santana gave her a glance, looked up at the sky and took a deep breath. "Please don't take this personally, I've grown to loathe that question, that's all. You'll think I'm weird."

"Try me."

Another quick glance and a lopsided smile. "Fine... Starting this fall, I'll be studying political theory, mathematics and agriculture."

Quinn's brows furrowed, and she tried not to be one of the crowd. "Well... that _is_ a rather strange combo, I'll admit, what's your major?"

Santana shrugged. "None, really. Whenever I get the course lists, I just pick the things that sound interesting. The really funny thing is that with those three classes, I'll still get a degree in the end - a jack-of-all-trades sort, I think." She tilted her head again, tried to blow her hair out of the way, failing. "I'll keep the rest of my eclectic education a secret for now, if you don't mind."

Quinn shook her head. "Still, aren't you worried you'll end up with a complex education that isn't really worth anything?"

"Not really. As long as I enjoy myself, I don't really care. Part-time jobs like here at the beach helps offset my costs. Some savings, a scholarship and a small loan covers the rest." She sighed. "This will be my last carefree year as a student, though. I'm not really sure what I'm going to do after that. Maybe I'll apply for a permanent job here, or something." There was a brief pause before she glanced at Quinn again. "What about you?"

Quinn smiled defensively, not sure how much she wanted to tell. If Santana didn't know who she was yet, she didn't want to lead her to find out - not this soon anyway. "I... I guess you could say I'm apprenticing for the family business."

"Oh? Sure that's what you want to do? The same thing your parents are doing, I mean?"

In truth, that was a thought that had never really occurred to Quinn. She'd been raised to value traditions, treasure the family, lend support to her own supporters whenever they needed it. Ever since she was a little girl, that was the future she'd been painted, and one she hadn't considered straying from. At least not further than this beach. Not until now. "I suppose it is. I haven't given it much thought."

Santana's forehead furrowed. "You _suppose_? You mean, you're planning to live your entire life according to your parents' wishes?"

Quinn shrugged. "Maybe. I don't know yet."

Santana studied Quinn's face intently for a moment, then returned to stare at the flimsy clouds far above. "Well... It's never too late to change your mind, you know... I mean, you're still young, and I bet you'd have an easy time in college or university."

Quinn shook her head, studied the vaguely shifting sands before her face. "I've already been there."

"Oh?"

"Two years of basic economics. After that, dad suggested I learn the rest in the 'real world'."

Santana unlocked her fingers and shifted up on her elbows. "Your father is a business man?"

Indeed, that was putting it mildly, Quinn thought, grinning, very glad Santana didn't know who she was yet. she cursed her little slip - perhaps she should have lied about her topics of study, or at least averted that bit. "Something like that," she casually answered, trying to brush it off.

She could almost see the next question forming on Santana's lips. She didn't mind letting Santana know the truth, only not right then, not there, not like this. She did not want money to matter.

Hastily, she got up on her knees. "I think I'd like to go for a swim. Care to join me?"

Santana raised a brow in silence. They'd barely laid down to soak sunshine, and a bath now would go a long way in ruining the job she'd done earlier. Still, that meant she could perhaps make the offer a second time - and let Quinn return the favor. Her face shifted from mild suspicion to acceptance. "Sure."

Like Quinn, she put her sunglasses aside with the rest of their belongings, started following Quinn to the water. By the base of tower fourteen, she paused, shouting up. "Hey, Ralph!"

Quinn turned to look, started for just a second as Ralph came into view. For a moment, she thought she'd seen her father. Ralph, obviously another lifeguard, looked very much like a younger version of the Fabray patriarch. "Yeah?" Ralph answered back.

"Could you keep an eye out for our stuff?" Santana pointed at their meager beach belongings.

Ralph followed her hand, glanced at Santana, to Quinn, back to Santana again. He grinned. "Yeah, sure. You two go have fun. And don't worry, there aren't many thieves left operating the beach, anyway. Too few people."

Santana nodded. She knew as much. She resumed her pursuit of Quinn, and as sand gave way to water, she ignored the prickly feeling the chilly water gave her.

Water is good for one thing; playing. While they started out innocently enough with just swimming beside each other, Quinn soon became tired of always losing their informal races. It hadn't surprised her, but still bothered her. Whenever they reached their pre-appointed mark, she'd find Santana standing there, smirking at her.

It was Quinn who'd done the first tackle, diving in and going for Santana's legs, pulling her under, soaking them both thoroughly.

It wasn't going to be the last wrestle.

Tag is so much harder in water - and so much more fun, as long as you aren't too concerned with hand placements. Water hides most of what happens beneath it, at least at a distance. Their game proved a good excuse to touch, however innocently, without arousing the suspicion of others. Themselves were another matter, but fortunately, the cold water was a good dampener.

Quinn briefly regretted her choice of beachwear, but not so much for the flesh factor. No, at that moment, it was the fact it was so easily allowing Santana's palms to make grabs for her buttocks or graze the entirety of her hips - and at one particularly adventurous streak brush across the inside of her hips. Judging from Santana's startled look after that, Quinn understood that had been accidental.

The other touches sure hadn't been - but Quinn hardly cared about that. Not against them, at least.

Quinn had long since lost track of time by the time her body started protesting against the cool water contrasting her heated insides. Reluctantly, she told Santana she'd had enough for one day. Just as saddened, Santana agreed. It was with some satisfaction Quinn observed the goose bumps along Santana's arms.

They made their way across the beach up to the shower stalls. Today too, they were all vacant. Indeed, the beach appeared even less crowded than the day before. Fully wet-suited surfers made up the bulk of today's guests. That made sense; the weather report _had_ mentioned the wind and waves would pick up later today.

Back at their stuff, the breeze was definitely growing noticeable. While fairly warm still, it was clear enough sunbathing between the drifting clouds would not be as comfortable. Loose, dry sand had already begun drifting in over Quinn's towel and Santana's straw mat.

Quinn shook her head, picked up her towel, flapped the sand off of it. She sighed. "I guess that's it for today. Might as well head back early." She started towelling off.

Santana rummaged about in her beach bag and came up with a towel of her own. "Quinn?"

"Yes?"

"I was wondering... Could I buy you lunch? That is, if you don't have any plans..."

Quinn smiled. "No, I'd like that, but... I don't have a set of spare clothes with me."

Santana grinned. "That's okay. I was thinking of a small place right over there," she said, nodding to a spot right beyond the parking lot. "I keep a tab there. It's nothing fancy. They don't keep much of a dress code, either. You wouldn't have to change at all."

Quinn glanced down, looking at her bikini. Meeting Santana's eyes again, she grinned. "I don't think I'd be quite comfortable with that, but the place sounds nice."

"It's a date, then."

Quinn chuckled lightly but finally shrugged. She could live with that. She dried herself off as best she could and donned her dress.

Meanwhile, Santana opted to leave her shirt in her bag and use only her bikini top with shorts. Quinn smirked at that, she was pleased with Santana for having decided to leave part of her perfect body uncovered. This time, _she_ would be the one with the best view.

There was definitely something alluring about that.

The place Santana brought them to was indeed somewhat shabby. Adjusting to its location, the chairs were all plastic, as were the tables. The dining chart was a small step above fast-food - but that made all the difference. Like the beach, there was no crowding whatsoever. They picked a table on the terrace, leaving them alone for five tables in any direction. The food was decent, but the drinks were too warm. The staff gave a quick excuse involving a faulty cooling unit.

Of course, neither of them had come for the food.

Quinn coaxed Santana into telling more about her experience as a lifeguard. Whether because Santana was modest, or because she'd had a quiet summer, Santana didn't have all that much to tell. Reality was not quite like Baywatch - albeit, Quinn wouldn't have minded ogling Santana as she ran down the beach in her uniform - nor would she mind being a rescue victim.

In return, Santana asked more traditional questions, asking for interests, favorite colors, more details on Quinn's family. Quinn was very careful in providing information on the latter, but answered the rest easily enough.

Things were going well - right up until Santana asked a set of rather dangerous questions. "So... I'm assuming you're single right now..."

"Would it be a good sign if I wasn't, yet wanted to get to know you better?"

Santana shrugged grinning. "I suppose we could all be... flexible."

She snickered quietly at Santana's anwers, shaking her head slightly. "No, I'm not seeing anyone."

Santana downed the last of her soft drink. "With your looks, I bet you've had quite a few suitors already..."

"Would you believe me if I said I'd gotten more proposals than you could count?"

Santana simply snorted. "Quit bragging, Lucy. Tell me the truth, or don't tell me at all."

Quinn started at hearing her first name. "What did you just call me?"

"Lucy," Santana repeated. "That's your full name, isn't it? Lucy Quinn Fabray?" She grinned. "Lulu?"

Quinn frowned at her. She'd heard that nickname enough in grade school. There was a reason she stuck with just the middle one now - if even that. Still, that still left the matter of- "Uh, Santana... I never told you my full name."

Color seemed to drain from Santana's face. She realized she'd just made a mistake, and tried to think of ways to fix it.

"Where did you pick up my name, Santana?" Quinn asked with some frustration, sighing as she understood that also meant- "You know who I am, then..."

"Uhm," Santana started. "Well, when we met yesterday, I couldn't shake the feeling that your face looked awfully familiar. At first, I thought you were just a student at college. When I got home, I came across your picture in a finance magazine, purely by chance."

Quinn scrutinized Santana's face, leaned in a bit to look deep into Santana's brown eyes. There was definitely something fishy about Santana's explanation. She hadn't been her father's apprentice for this long without learning how to recognize fear and uncertainty. She opted to go on the offensive. "Which magazine was it?"

Santana shrugged. "I don't remember - it was just one that was lying about the place."

"Was it a recent edition? It must be, if-"

Santana shook her head. "I told you, I don't remember. Look, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

Quinn didn't relent. "Why did you buy a finance magazine in the first place? Were you studying economics before the summer?"

Santana started to answer, but the words didn't leave her open mouth. Instead, she just shook her head, then hid her face in her palms for a moment. She took a deep breath, gave Quinn a faint smile. "I bought it for the comics?" she said, giving Quinn a sheepish grin. "Fuck... I'm sorry, Quinn. I really blew it now, didn't I?"

"Blew what?"

"This," Santana gestured. "Us. I'm sorry I lied to you, I shouldn't have done that. I didn't want you to know-"

"Know what?" Quinn cut in, agitated.

Santana looked at her for a few moments, then sighed in defeat. "Quinn... I know Larry."

Quinn's jaw dropped at that revelation. It wasn't quite so coincidental that they met, then. That much, she'd figured as soon as she heard Santana say her first name. Still, there was some reassurance in Larry being involved. That lessened the possibility of Santana being a gold digger - or worse, a reporter sniffing for a scoop. Of course, it still left her feeling betrayed.

Looking slightly away from Quinn's scrutinizing glare, Santana continued. "I _am_ a lifeguard here - everything I've told you is true - except for this last bit about learning your name." She sighed. "I first saw you this spring. You were easy to notice, since you always came back to the same spot, conveniently close to my tower." She smirked added with a mumble. "I liked what I saw, too..."

Quinn did not allow that to distract her. She kept her unwavering glare at Santana.

"I also noticed another guy always picking the same spot - about three hundred feet away from you. He never struck me as a typical tourist, and he was always following you around, at a distance."

Quinn briefly pinched the bridge of her nose at this revelation. It would appear Larry _had_ sent a bodyguard escort after all, then - or at least a watchdog. She quietly promised herself to have a long talk with Larry upon her return home.

"I approached him once, while you were heading out for a swim with him in tow. He hesitated, but it was easy to see he was tempted to push me aside and resume stalking you - that was his job, after all. He didn't, since that would have attracted a lot of attention."

"Including mine."

Santana nodded, finally daring to face Quinn again. "The guy briefly explained his purpose, but I wasn't sure what to believe. I mentioned getting the police down here to straighten all of it out, but he urged me not to, and used his phone to call Larry down here. The three of us had a quick meeting while you were standing in line for the showers. To cut a long story short; Larry figured that if a total stranger could spot one of his men working undercover, you would do the same soon enough, and he said you wouldn't be pleased if you did."

Quinn scowled at her. She did not like her freedom limited like this - no matter how imagined it was. "Damn right." she muttered.

Santana pursed her lips, thinking of the best way to phrase the rest. "That's when he offered me an extra job. Larry figured I was fairly observant, if I could spot one of his best men in a crowd like that, so he promised a small paycheck just for keeping an eye out for you." Santana tried her seductive smile again, but it was laced with sadness. "As if I didn't have an eye for you already..."

The come-on was shot down cold by Quinn's glare.

Santana looked away with a sigh. "I'll admit, at first I wanted to turn Larry down. The way he went on about you, he made you sound like some spoiled little rich brat out slumming on a public beach."

Quinn snorted. "Gee, thanks..."

"That's not what-" Santana paused for reconsideration. "If I hadn't watched you before seen how you played with the kids, building sandcastles, or how you joined people for beach volleyball games or frisbee tosses, how you quietly read a book and... How you ogled people from behind your sunglasses."

"I do _not_-"

Santana let out a soft, inaudible laugh and said, "Let's both be honest from now on, okay, Quinn?"

Hesitantly Quinn accepted with a grumpy nod.

"If I hadn't watched you - seen how you acted - who you _really_ were, I might have turned Larry down."

"But you didn't."

Santana shook her head. "I didn't." She met Quinn's glare again, glad to see it had weakened. "I'm sorry, Quinn. I never meant to deceive you. I wanted to tell you, but... I wasn't sure how. I'm sorry I didn't come forward right away, but I was afraid you'd be really upset, and-"

"I am," Quinn explained. She sighed. "But it's okay. Larry is always looking out for me like that. He means well, but I need some space to _breathe_ too. It makes perfect sense he'd put you on the payroll and-"

"I've never done anything more than I would have anyway, Quinn."

Quinn cocked her head, the last of her anger starting to fade away. "What do you mean?"

Santana gave a weak grin. "Watching you, until yesterday, that was all I did. You're so fucking gorgeous, Quinn - and you're not even afraid to show it." She rested her chin in her palm. "The only times I wanted to intervene were when someone tried to make a pass at you." She chuckled at the thought. "Luckily, they were all boys, and you turned them away, very politely. That got my hopes up." She straightened up and shook her head. "I still felt my heart in my throat every time, though and once, there was a guy who looked at you so intently I almost took a swing at him."

"Santana, if you've been attracted to me for so long, why didn't you say anything until now?"

"I... I don't know," Santana began. "I suppose I wanted to keep my bargain with Larry and I figured attempting to seduce you wasn't part of the job description."

Quinn snorted, a faint smile on her lips now.

"Yesterday, after we talked - after seeing you look at me like that... I couldn't wait anymore. The season is almost up too, so I knew I wouldn't have many more chances with you. So, I switched shifts with Ralph and decided to tempt fate by making a pass at you." Tentatively, she reached her hands across the table, touching Quinn's. "For what it's worth - I'm sorry I didn't tell you this right away."

Quinn shook her head, shifted her hands to grasp at Santana's. "No, it's okay." She said with a lopsided smile. "I suppose we could give it another chance."

"Without lies."

Quinn nodded. "That sounds good. I like you, Santana. I haven't had that many suitors, and hardly anyone that fall within my... preferences."

"Do I?" Santana asked, her voice a bit too hopeful.

"Would we still be talking if you didn't?"

"I suppose not."

Quiet descended upon them again, lasting for nearly a minute. A concern broke the moment. "Santana..."

"Yeah?"

"I was wondering, about my money, you know who I am, so you know my family is wealthy, right?"

Santana nodded. "Among the richest in town, I've heard."

Quinn sighed. Again, an understatement. "Yeah. Do you think will my money be a problem for us?"

Santana's grip on Quinn's hands tightened. "Don't believe for a moment I'm going after your money, Quinn. I'm after something far more valuable than that, you."

Quinn couldn't help but let out a snort. "Flattery will get you nowhere..." she continued with a smile. "But I admit I liked the sound of that."

Santana's faint smile returned, hitting Quinn with full force. "If you don't believe me, I'm willing to sign a pre-nup..."

Quinn flagged a brow, grinning. "Now you're being too forward."

"I want you. I hope you want me. Why delay the inevitable?" Santana said with a shrug.

Any number of familiar and social obligations came to Quinn's mind. She sighed again, looking away for a moment. "I could think of a few..."

Santana hesitated, not sure what Quinn meant. Still, she drew her own conclusions. "Quinn, does your father know?"

She didn't have to ask the full question. Quinn could guess the rest of it. She flashed Santana a weak grin. "That I ogle people on a public beach?"

Santana chuckled quietly.

Quinn nodded. "Yeah, he knows, but that doesn't stop him from insisting on family heirs. I'm not sure he thinks I'm serious."

"Well, we'll show him," Santana begun before smirking playfully . "And we could always adopt."

Quinn choked on her breath, trying not to laugh. "You're thinking _way_ too much ahead there, Santana."

Santana's smirk was toned down to a thin smile again. "Sorry."

The quiet returned. Quinn glanced up on the far wall, checked the time on the great clock there. "I'd better get back."

"When can I see you again?"

Quinn grinned. "What about at our usual place, tomorrow morning?"

"Tower fourteen?" Santana cautiously asked, just to be safe.

Quinn nodded.

"I'll have to change shifts again then or quit a few days early."

"You're quitting your job?"

Santana nodded. "Classes begins in a few weeks, and I have to get a few things in order, like the books. The season is almost over here, anyway and I was only hired for the summer. I'll have to look for another part-time job once I've gotten a bit into my studies."

A thought hit Quinn, and she struggled not to smirk - or blush. It was a bit embarrassing to ask, but the potential reward more than weighed up for it. "In that case, I might have an idea. See, we have a large indoor pool, and I fully intend to take advantage of it during the winter but we don't have anyone to tend it right now..."

Santana raised a brow, but didn't loose her smile. "Oh?"

"What do you say, Santana? Want to be my pool girl?"

She looked like she was about to laugh, but instead, she rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "Well... I'm not adverse to the idea. I like water, even chlorinated water. I admit I don't know much about pool maintenance, but I can probably find some reading material on the topic. I'm a quick learner."

"So, you'll accept?"

Santana reached over the table and tentatively touched Quinn's cheek. "I'll consider it. I bet the job would have its perks."

Quinn arrested Santana's palm, trapping it against her cheek. "Maybe it does."

"And if your pool girl goes beyond the call of duty...?"

"Like in sappy romance novels?" Quinn chuckled. "Well, _I_ certainly wouldn't mind... Not so sure if Larry would, though." Reluctantly, she let go of Santana's hand, and stood up "I'm afraid I couldn't pay you extra for that, either."

Santana smirked. "That's okay. I think that would be its own reward."

Quinn only smiled for an answer. "Well, I'd better go. Bye, Santana. See you tomorrow?"

Santana nodded.

"And Santana?"

Santana straightened up, listening intently.

"Thank you, without you, I think the winter season would have become very bleak and boring."

Santana grinned brightly. "What can I say? I'm a lifesaver."

Quinn rolled her eyes, and left.

Summer had been good. Winter would be better.

**The End.**


End file.
